


Evils of the World

by ElvenMoans



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mental Breakdown, Mental Health Issues, No Smut, Rape Aftermath, Sad, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:47:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 763
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22158820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvenMoans/pseuds/ElvenMoans
Summary: A short fic in which Arthur struggles to cope after *that* stranger mission.I wrote this and then forgot about it. I intended to write it with a hurt/comfort ending but it's been so long since I wrote this that I doubt I ever will come back to finish it. For now it's simply hurt/no comfort.---Arthur Morgan was no stranger to the evils in the world. He knew that it always came for you, that it always came for the people you loved. That you had to fight tooth and nail to keep it away from you and your loved ones, and sometimes it was enough. Sometimes it wasn’t.
Comments: 7
Kudos: 65





	Evils of the World

**Author's Note:**

> By the way, if you're here for erotica this isn't it. This is just sadness.
> 
> Also I haven't finished the game, so no spoilers please.

Arthur Morgan was no stranger to the evils in the world. He knew that it always came for you, that it always came for the people you loved. That you had to fight tooth and nail to keep it away from you and your loved ones, and sometimes it was enough. Sometimes it wasn’t. 

And he sure as hell knew about the worst of those evils; rape. Nearly every girl in camp had experienced it more than once, and Arthur had personally killed several of those bastards. He had killed other rapists too. It didn’t matter what woman it happened to, Arthur had to get the evil bastards who did it and stop them from ever doing it again. He would tell the woman that they were okay, make sure they knew he didn’t think less of them with his actions. No words, as words were clunky. 

He had never imagined that rape may happen to men too, and he had sure as hell not imagined himself being the victim of it. 

Arthur Morgan had been raped, and he couldn’t get himself to go back and kill that bastard. He couldn’t tell himself he was okay, and he sure as hell couldn’t stop it from hurting his self-image. 

Hosea patted Arthur on the shoulder as he sat besides him. He gave Arthur an oddly sympathetic look. “Sometimes people are only right for us for a time. You and Mary had your time. Cherish it, but keep your head up.” 

An odd, almost barking laugh burst out of Arthur’s throat. He had nearly forgotten the entire reason he was in Lemoyne. Some crazy urge of his drove him south. Run the grief out of him, run away from the reminders of her. He wanted to take a weekend in Saint Dennis to drink and maybe get a nice new vest. Something to make him feel like a new man. 

But no, instead he got fucked by some ugly hillbilly just north of the city. Bile turned his stomach and he felt as if he was going to vomit. Tears pricked at his eyes, but he couldn’t understand why. 

“Arthur?” Hosea’s voice was gentle, but with the smallest hint of alarm. He reached out for Arthur but quickly pulled his hand back as soon as he saw the flinch that caused. 

“I’m fine.” Arthur pulled his hat down lower and stood. 

He was not fine, and the entire camp knew that. The girls talked to him more, the men less. Arthur found himself on long hunting trips where he stared out at the landscape more than he spent tracking.

Hosea kept an uncomfortably close eye on him. He was worried, Dutch was worried too.

\--  
“Hey cowpoke,” Micah started towards Arthur with the fire in his eyes that said he wanted a friendly fight. But he took one look at where Arthur sat hunched over, and froze. His brows knit, and he placed one hand on his hip. “Stop moping. You’re bringing everyone down with you.”

Under the veil of cocky annoyance, Arthur could see how Micah was disturbed. He almost wanted to claim concern under it as well, but that would be stupid.

\----  
Arthur didn’t know why he did it. He didn’t know why he sat alone in some burnt out town and cut thin lines down his calves. Yes, he had consciously decided to cut his leg and not his wrist, lest someone see the wounds and think he was crazy. But he didn’t know what drove him to it. 

Perhaps he was crazy. Perhaps he just wanted to release the pain inside him. 

It was a stupid pain. The girls didn’t fall apart like he did. 

\---  
Arthur saw Karen sitting by the water and started towards her. He knew for a fact that Karen had been raped before. He’d killed him. He killed the man for Karen, and she had been strong. She brushed off the incident with nothing more than a shaky voice. 

He stopped just short of the river sand. Karen was strong, and he wasn’t. If he told Karen how weak he was she would think less of him. She might even laugh at him, or tell the others. 

It was as if his whole body was submerged in icy water. His blood was cold with fear that made no sense, and he felt nothing in his limbs as he nearly ran into the forest. 

Arthur Morgan tripped on a root, and did not get up. He sobbed into his hands and wondered how he had lost control of everything

**Author's Note:**

> Please note that this Arthur is an unreliable narrator and doesn't realize just how much rape probably effects the girls. He is comparing their outer expression to his own hidden emotions.


End file.
